


It started with ice cream

by I_hate_mages_No_you_dont



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Ice Cream, M/M, Mention of abuse, Pre-Relationship, circle Anders, finding a friend, kanders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9083314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_hate_mages_No_you_dont/pseuds/I_hate_mages_No_you_dont
Summary: Anders is back in the circle. Three times broken out, three times brought back. While he suffers part of his punishment in the kitchen he comes across an unlikely reason to stay... maybe...(by kittenmage)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thejourneymaninn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejourneymaninn/gifts).



> Inspired by the lovely lyriumchristmas prompt "New Flavours" by TheJourneyManInn where Anders makes ice cream for the Kirkwall crew. A skill he learned from Karl and just screamed for a fanfic in itself. I tried to keep it as fluffy as possible (in regards of today's events we can all need that, I guess)  
> Thank you for inspiring me with your amazing fiction! <3

Three times he had run away.

Three times he had been brought back.

And had been stuck with kitchen duties on top of a few nice whip lashes. _‘The Maker hates me!’_

Anders was scrubbing one of the bigger pans that was crusted with eggs and butter from breakfast. Breakfast for the Templars that is. The mages had to contend themselves with meagre porridge. At least the younger ones. Irving and the teachers seemed to get more spice or sugar to make the porridge at least eatable. An angry growl left Anders’ throat and turned into a weird squeak at the end. Lately his voice was doing odd things when he tried to speak. Or yell. Or do anything. Some of the other apprentices had laughed at him, but Wynne, his teacher in healing had said it was perfectly normal for his age.

Without living through the changing seasons Anders had a hard time guessing his age exactly, but he must have been 15 by now. Which meant it were definitely three years already.

Three years since his father gave him away like a cow who would no longer give milk. Like a broken pot… like… the useless piece of shit he currently felt like.

On his last escape attempt, he had managed to stay in the relative freedom of a fugitive for a month. Maybe next time he would get away from the Templars for good. NO! Not maybe! He would!

Just as Anders was browsing ideas how to get away the next time, the door to the kitchen opened. In came one of the older apprentices carrying an assembly of tiny bowls and vials and… fruit?

Anders raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. They would surely enough laugh at him as soon as they saw him. The runaway. The Ander without a name. Always getting recaptured, no matter what he did. But instead the other mage turned and Anders was met with a surprised but soft smile.

“Oh, it’s you?! I hadn’t realized you were back.”

It was Karl Thekla. He was quite popular among mages and Templars alike. He was civil and calm and kind. In addition to that he was a patient Tutor for younger mages. And Anders had no idea how the other boy did that. Tolerate everything. The circle. Being closed off from the world. Enduring it with such patience. He was half sure that he could never like Karl. How could he like anyone who seemed to be so happy in the circle?! Or at least seemed content.

Unbeknownst to Anders’ musings about him, Karl took up a spot at the opposite side of the kitchen, carefully setting down all the vessels he brought with him. Swift hands rearranged all the items into some kind of order that made no sense to Anders. Only then as Karl turned to go for the small cool chamber where they stored milk and butter and meat did Anders realize that he had stopped with his own work. Embarrassed he doubled his efforts. He didn’t want to be caught observing the other mage. Also, not getting everything done by noon, could mean another punishment. As much as Anders tried to keep a stern face while the Templars tried to “bring him back to order”, he couldn’t help but wake up screaming some nights, when the harsh burns of the whips broke open again and rattled him from his dreams with searing pain. He threw a look of disgust at the shackle around his wrist. Filled to the brim with mage bane. What would Anders give for a way to pick the lock and heal his wounds. But he couldn’t. The frown on his face got deeper and he scrubbed the crusted pan with even more force.

“Is it that bad?”

Suddenly there was Karl right behind him, peering over Anders’ shoulder – as best as he could for they were almost the same height – and scrunched up his nose. Anders almost let the pan slip through his fingers in surprise. The older boy smiled in apology.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to frighten you. I just need to wash these quickly.” 

He nodded at three bowls in his hands.

“Ehh… sure!”

Soap and water dripped from the pan onto the floor, as Anders stepped aside to give Karl access to the pump and sink. There was an awkward pause.

“You know I’m never sure if I should hope that I won’t see you again or that they find you and bring you back.”

Anders stared. His mouth might have dropped open in the process. Though Karl couldn’t see. His back was turned on Anders as he cleaned the bowls. With a cough, he recollected himself.

“I wasn’t aware you know who I am!”

He tried a smirk once Karl was facing him again. Which apparently brought him out of his composure a bit.

“Oh… but of course. Everyone does! You’re quite famous!”

A shy smile flushed over Karl’s face before the boy turned and walked back to the table where he’d sat up his vials and fruit. Anders couldn’t help himself but follow him with his eyes. Why had there been no reproach in Karl’s voice? Why had he said that he wished for Anders to be back in the circle? Or something along these lines… they had never talked before that day.

The door to the kitchen swung open and a Templar entered. It wasn’t visible underneath the helmet but Anders would have sworn that the knight raised an eyebrow.

“Boy get back to your work! Only three hours left until the cook needs her equipment back!”

The Templar turned towards Karl. When he spoke to the older mage the voice was remarkably less scornful.

“If he’s bothering you, say so!”

Karl only slightly shook his head. 

“Oh, definitely not. He’s good company.”

This time Anders didn’t need to guess, he could almost see the eyebrows peaking over the brim of the helmet. Yet the Templar said nothing in response, only left with a loud bang as the door swung close behind him.

“What did you say that for?”

The dripping pan totally forgotten, Anders turned towards Karl again.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t possible think I’m good company?! And no Templar would ever believe you. They’d rather think I’d cursed you with blood magic.”

A soft laughter echoed through the kitchen.

“I don’t think you would do that.”

Karl smiled once more and returned his focus to his assembly of items. He had started to chop the different fruits into tiny cubes. It seemed as if Anders wouldn’t receive an answer to his question. He huffed in confusion and returned to his work.

For about half an hour the two boys worked in silence, each on their own task. The reluctant pan was cleaned and so were about 5 others. Anders was just about to start on the plates and cutlery when he heard a small curse from the other side of the room. He turned around swiftly to see Karl frantically rubbing his hands against each other. It looked as if he was freezing. Without thinking twice Anders walked over to him, took the other boy’s wrist, and dragged him back to the sink to push the ice-cold hands into the water. This time around, it was Karl’s turn to stare in confusion.

“I don’t know what you’re doing over there, but cold fingers are not to be taken lightly. And the water’s warm. Easiest cure ever.”

Anders almost blushed at the sudden changes of pitch in his voice, but his smile was steady. He couldn’t help it. His only real talent in magic was healing and somehow, he couldn’t keep himself from helping others as soon as he was faced with injuries or problems he could heal.

“Thank you… that was… quick thinking…”

Karl averted his gaze to stare at his fingers that regained their normal colour due to the warm water. He withdrew them after a few minutes and grabbed a towel to dry them off.

“What were you going to do? Let it snow?”

Anders was curious. And what better way to know what Karl was up to than tease him till he revealed his plans? At least Anders knew none.

“I’m making ice cream and seem to be out of practice. The ice spell backfired and froze my fingers.”

“You’re making what?”

“Ice cream? You’ve never heard of that?”

Karl’s eyes got wide.

“I can’t believe it… but of course. You’ve just been transferred to the second course this year. Sometimes I forget you’re actually quite young…”

Anders was about to protest and ask more about the thing called “ice cream” when he felt a soft grip around his wrist.

“Come, I’ll show you!”

Too perplexed by the situation Anders let himself be led over to the work place of Karl. There were several bowls filled with milk and different slices of fruit. Some bowls though seemed to be filled with something more akin to snow rather than milk. Was that ice cream?

Karl picked up a spoon, scooped up a bit from a bowl filled with a soft pink something and held it up to Anders’ mouth.

“Go on! Try it!”

As if on reflex Anders sniffed the content of the spoon, but couldn’t really smell anything. The fact that Karl lightly bit the corner of his lower lip, as if he was unsure what he was offering Anders in the first place, didn’t do any good for Anders’ suspicions. Yet if he was anything, he was curious. And so far, Karl had seemed rather nice. And even if this was a prank, Anders could endure it. So, he reluctantly opened his mouth.

The first thing Anders noticed was the cold. It was as if biting into a hand full of snow. But it was softer. More like pudding. But then again not because it was so light. As if filled with air. And then there was the taste. Sweet. Of strawberries. And some sort of spice that Anders couldn’t quite place. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted!

His face must have shown all the varying stages from suspicion over confusion to delight, as Karl stood there with the biggest smile Anders had ever seen on the other boy’s face.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?!”

Anders managed a weak nod as he licked the last remnants of the marvellous food from his lips.

“You can do this with magic?”

His eyes went wide. Apart from healing, Anders had never seen another kind of magic that didn’t hurt or intimidate. He had seen the older mages train under the Templars guidance. It was solely for battle. Always for fighting, attacking and defending. Mages and magic were just another tool for the Chantry’s war. But this. Anders stared at the other bowls. One was filled with a faint green cream, a few leaves of mint peeking out. The other was kind of yellowish and smelled strongly of apples. The next was simply white and smelled so strong of vanilla that Anders couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized the spice in the strawberry flavour to be vanilla before. It was a wonderful display of colours and sweet fruit and flavours. But cold… and soft… melting on the tongue like a snowflake.

A shadow of sadness flickered over Karl’s face. As if understanding what was going on in Anders’ mind. He sighed.

“There has to be a positive side to our abilities that is not power, don’t you agree?”

Anders nodded, still marvelling at the ice cream. Maybe if his father had known that magic could be so silent, and nice, and not dangerous… maybe he would have let Anders stay?

“You know, Anders. Now that I think about it, I could use some help. What if I help you clean the dishes and you lend me a hand or two with these?” 

A soft squeeze on Anders shoulder made him look up and face Karl. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Had the older boy just asked for his help? Just like that? And offered his assistance with Anders’ punishment? His eyes went wide.

“Eh... I… you can’t mean that. What if they catch you helping me! They’ll punish you, too!”

“Please. I… I’d like to show you how to make ice cream. And if they get angry, let them be angry with me. I can handle that.”

Anders pretty much doubted that! The image of Karl hunched over in front of a Templar, screaming for them to stop, while the whip met his back again and again, flashed through Anders’ mind. That was never going to happen! And definitely not because of him! Anders wouldn’t allow it! 

“I… I’d like to learn how to make this! But I’ll finish the dishes alone! Just give me a minute!”

His endeavour to sound determined was undermined by yet another high-pitched sound that interrupted Anders mid-sentence. Maker, when would this humiliation stop?! Wynne had said something about a few weeks…

Never before had Anders been faster doing the dishes. He had everything cleaned and dried within less than half an hour. On his way over to Karl, who had apparently finished the strawberry and mint flavour in the meantime, Anders remembered the drenched apron he still wore.

“Oh, I’ll just change this against a dry one.”

He threw a quick smile at Karl, turned and pulled the apron over his head. The waistband got stuck with his shirt and dragged it up with the apron a few inches. Anders could hear a hitched breath from behind him.

“What… why aren’t these lashes healed, Anders?”

Before Anders had completely removed the apron and tucked his shirt back down again, he felt two cold hands on his bare back. A quick peek over his shoulder showed him, that Karl was glaring at the red marks on Anders’ back in disgust. The cold fingers tucked at the shirt and lifted it even higher. Karl was obviously examining the damage.

“Why haven’t you seen another healer about these! Or healed them yourself! I’ve seen you in Wynne’s class. You reacted immediately when I froze my fingers earlier, you must have healing abilities. Why don’t you do anything about that? You shouldn’t punish yourself...”

Embarrassment flooded through Anders like a huge wave. He turned his body away from Karl’s frowning observation and furiously tucked his shirt into the waistband of his ill-fitting pants. Never before had anyone noticed the marks the Templars’ punishments left on his body.

“I can’t heal it myself!”

Anders weakly shook his hand in front of Karl’s face. The shackles obviously only then obvious to the other mage. Karl’s eye grew in horror.

“They won’t let me heal it. They say I have to remember the punishment… as if that would tempt me to stay longer in this prison.”

He lowered his gaze to the floor. Now Karl could do with this knowledge what he wanted. He could finally laugh at Anders. Or worse. Say that he deserved the treatment for being obstinate and foolish for running away again and again.

Instead of the anticipated reactions, Anders felt a hand carefully squeeze his shoulder again. He looked back up. Karl seemed taken aback and unsure whether this physical contact was okay. They just stared at each other for a moment. Karl obviously too astonished to speak, Anders amazed that he found so much unexpected kindness in someone he hardly knew. It was Karl who broke the silence.

“I’m sorry…”

And though Anders’ chest clenched uncomfortably at that openly displayed sympathy and his first instinct was to grab the other boy for a hug, he simply shrugged. As if this was nothing. As if he was okay. As if he could deal with this easily.

Yet one glance at Karl told him, he wasn’t buying it. Nevertheless, Karl said nothing more on the subject.

“Do you still want to learn how to make ice cream?”

The soft smile was back on Karl’s face, poorly hiding the concern in his eyes. Though Anders could rather deal with distracting himself and the other mage, than face these sad look any longer.

“Tell me what to do!”

Anders tried to smile. As usual it worked without much effort. Three years in the circle had at least taught him how to fake a smile when he wanted to cry. Or hide his discomfort behind teasing. Karl wasn’t believing him as willingly as everyone else though. Yet, thankfully, he didn’t question him further. Instead they turned back to Karl’s task. Make ice cream. Without magic, Anders could of course not cast the very weak cone of ice that would freeze the milk and other ingredients. But the two boys found a routine where Karl cast and Anders stirred the cream in the meantime. The rather positive effect of this was that the constant movement made the ice cream even fluffier and softer than the last one.

Karl offered the first taste of the finished cocoa cream to Anders, who eagerly shoved the spoon into his mouth and would have purred in delight, had his pride allowed it. Instead he sighed.

“It’s delicious! You have to try it, too!”

Without waiting for a response, Anders took another spoon, filled it with a huge amount of cocoa ice cream and almost pushed it past Karl’s lips. The older mage blinked in surprise, before his face shifted into a content smile.

“It never tasted that good before! That’s your doing!”

Anders could hardly handle the blush that crept up his cheeks at the unforeseen compliment. But he wasn’t known for his teasing and flirting for nothing and quickly retorted.

“Well I had a good teacher.”

A soft chuckle followed this comment and Anders would have sworn that it was accompanied by a slight blush colouring Karl’s face a soft pink.

“We seem to work well together!”

“Hmmm… seems so!”

Suddenly Karl extended his hand to Anders.

“Maybe we can do it again in the future. I might need help to recreate this wonder. The others will never want to eat normal ice cream again!”

Completely perplexed Anders accepted the outstretched hand and shook it slowly.

“You mean… I can help you again!”

Karl’s was just about to open his mouth for an answer when the doors opened again and two cooks entered, followed by a Templar. While the cooks went to work the latter instantly walked over to Karl and Anders.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Thanking Anders for his help, Sera. After he was done with all his kitchen work he helped me with the ice cream for the Knight-Commander and the Grand Enchanter. I wouldn’t have been able to finish in time without him.”

Anders couldn’t believe his ears. And apparently neither could the Templar. A few moments went by without a word from him. Until he coughed and turned.

“Well… good. Back to your class now, boy!”

The door slammed shut again, which startled the cooks that had begun peeling potatoes. And Anders stared after the Templar in awe. Then at Karl.

“Did you just…”

The other mage waved dismissively.

“You should go to Wynne. I know her classes always start precisely at noon.”

Without another word – Karl was right, and that the Templar had showed up meant Anders was already late – Anders ran for the door. While he sped through the corridor’s he couldn’t help but think, that he might have found a friend today.

The suspicion got stronger when about an hour later Karl knocked at the class room door.

“Excuse me, may I enter!”

The smile on Wynne’s face was soft as ever. They were talking about different plants today. Lucky for Anders who wouldn’t need to show the other’s that he couldn’t use his magic on this particular day.

“Of course, come in.”

Karl entered with a basket. Could this mean what Anders thought it meant?

“I’ve asked permission from the Grand Enchanter to bring you and your pupils some special treat today.”

Wynne looked a little confused but her smile didn’t waver. With a short movement of her hand she bid Karl to come to the front of the room.

“I brought ice cream. I heard rumours that not everyone here knows that magic can produce sweet desserts… if it won’t interrupt your lesson, of course!”

Anders would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Wynne couldn’t dismiss the offer to eat it now. The ice would melt before they finished their course. So, willing or not, she had to allow a short break. Wynne seemed to have a similar train of thought as Anders, as her smile gained a slightly mischievous quality. She seemed amused.

“Well, how could I refuse a present sanctioned by the Grand Enchanter himself. As long as I’ll get some of your famous strawberry ice cream, I’m sure I can forgive this short interruption.”

Karl proceeded to hand out tiny bowls of ice cream to the pupils. Some of them stared at the contends of their bowls with as much suspicion as Anders had earlier. A few seemed to almost bounce with delight at the prospect of ice cream. Anders himself had a hard time not to do the same. He sat in the back of the room, so Karl came to him last.

“Cocoa for you… I thought you might like that.”

In truth, Anders never had cared much for cocoa. But the spice was now forever linked to his first lesson in ice cream making with Karl and the strange circumstances in which he had found this unlikely new friend. So, he was more than happy when Karl placed the dark brown cream on the table in front of him. Though the older boy fumbled in his coat pocket for yet another tiny bowl, that was filled with something less eatable.

“Balm for your back.”

Karl whispered and tried to keep his voice as low as possible.

“I’ll come by after dinner. As a Tutor I am allowed to help others study. Don’t worry. They won’t suspect it.”

The older boy turned, bowed slightly at Wynne, which made her almost giggle, and left the room. As Anders stared after him, he almost forgot to eat his ice cream. Their ice cream, he corrected himself. He’d created something with another mage. With a… friend. Anders was reluctant to even think the word. How was he to trust that this wasn’t some ploy of the Grand Enchanter to keep him in the Tower. He internally shook his head. No. Maybe it was Karl’s plan, but not from anyone else. Because even without knowing Karl much, Anders was sure that he was a terrible liar. All his emotions had been honest and sudden, if hidden behind his general pleasant air. Karl wasn’t able of deceit. Which confused Anders even more. Why him? Why did one of the most promising mages chose to befriend him?

Anders had no clue. But as he brought a spoon of ice cream to his mouth and swallowed blissfully, he chose to not care about that. At least not today. Today had been almost a good day. He had found a friend. And learned to make the most delicious food in Thedas.

For the first time in years, Anders felt the sting of a feeling in his heart that he had almost forgotten.

Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> weird note from the author: it was strange to not have Justice comment everything Anders does. (referring to most of my other Anders fanfics)


End file.
